Saturday, July 30, 2016

Prior to selling cars (1986) I bounced
around the construction and related industries in management and sales. At one
point I was hired by a skylight manufacturer (great job, things were always
looking up). Walked into a bad situation as the general manager and the
production manager were stealing as much as they could. Sexual favors from the
female employees were demanded. They got caught and I was suddenly the big
cheese.

Back story. I always had a problem with
not being from the right background, right education, right social circles,
etc. and was often passed over or held back in favor of people who were less
talented and effective but were the “right sort”.

My criteria was to hire and promote those
who could do the job. Other than not stealing and being reliable, I didn’t care
about appearance (bathing was encouraged), race, age, or sex. Catching a couple of breaks, the business
rapidly expanded from about three production workers to twelve. One of my early
hires, a woman (as described in Ami’s blog remarks) became the production
foreman. We had a retired career Army 11B (no one would hire a Vietnam killer),
a laid off Boeing engineer (over qualified with many advanced degrees and too
old) , a burned out cop, and three other
women among others. They were a rowdy bunch with lots of joking around. I didn’t care because they worked their butts
off.

Summer came around. The factory was always
hot from the ovens heating sheets of acrylic and was hotter in the summer even
with lots of ventilation and fans. The clothing got scantier as the days went
by. Calling all the women into the break room, I explained they needed to cover
up a bit before some man stuck his hand into a saw. “Ladies, men can’t help
looking. Please keep that in mind as you dress for work”. My words seem to be
well received and I was rather pleased with myself. Little did I know.

Two days later the production foreman
said she and the other women wanted a meeting. Oh, shit! Gathering in the break
room, she asked me if I approved of their clothing? Seeing them all in
sweatshirts and T-shirts with sleeves I said, “Yes, that is perfect’.

“Good”, she said. “We wouldn’t want you
to be distracted”.

She gave a signal and all the women
raised their tops. All were braless. My
reaction, and shocked expression, must have had the desired effect judging from
the gales of laughter.

Thursday, July 28, 2016

If you travel US 287 from Colorado to
Texas you will drive about 48 miles in Oklahoma. One day I’m heading South and
an Oklahoma trooper passed me Northbound. In my mirror saw him turn around.
Shit! At the next wide spot I pulled over. It was me he wanted to talk to. He
had me walk back to his cruiser and get in the front passenger seat (to insure
the audio/video had the best chance to record everything although the trooper
didn’t mention any of that). When in that situation truth can be your friend.

“How fast were you going?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention
to my speedometer”.

After a few more minutes of chit chat, He
said. “Mr. White, it is only eight miles to the Texas line. Do you think you
can stay within the limit for eight miles?”

“Yes Officer, I believe I can”. So, on my
way with no ticket.

At the time I was driving a green Ford
Escort Wagon with numerous dents, bins full of sales material (rear seat
removed) and commercial grade red/silver reflective tape on the rear bumper. Noticeable,
it was.

Two weeks later I was going from Texas to
Colorado on US 287 and stopped in Boise City to use the sanitary facilities and
get some coffee. Upon returning to my car I heard someone call my name.

“Mr. White, I am very pleased to see you
obeying the speed limit in Oklahoma”.

“Officer, I didn’t see you’.

“We’re sneaky that way”.

To this day I’m very careful on US 287 in
Oklahoma.

(That picture of the Escort was taken
where CO, WY, and NE meet at Tri Corners)

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Two negative rants about recent police encounters involving family and myself.First involves a probable stolen car. At my part time job is a parking lot that is somewhat isolated. Came in to find a 2 door hatchback (tuner look) backed into a tree so as to obscure the license plate and the front plate missing. Please understand I've done repossessions off and on for decades. I can spot someone is trying to hide a car so my suspicions have some credibility. Shortly after starting my route I see a cruiser sitting in a honey hole and pull over to talk to the officer. Got a polite, even cheerful, brush off. Of course, he had no way of knowing I spent decades retailing automobiles or he may not have tried to bullshit a professional bullshitter. My conclusion he is of the revenue generating subset of police and not a peace officer.Second involves a 0430 ticket my middle son received three months ago. My guess is the officer hoped to catch a drunk and instead stops a totally sober driver returning from a concert in Denver. Said 40 year old driver has a speech impediment, looks like an ax murderer in a slasher movie, and is driving a hail damaged old beater with an expired license tab. The officer proceeds to issue an 8 point ticket (we don't like your kind in our town) so as to end his shift on a high note and do some social cleansing.Colorado has recently changed court rules classifying traffic tickets as a "civil matter"; pay the fine and no negotiating. Horseshit. So I stroke a $500 check to a lawyer and Monday a judge dismissed the entire matter as the officer failed to show up for the second time. Why me writing the check? My son has had a hard time keeping steady employment in this Obama economy.Now $500 isn't a frivolous sum for a retiree like myself. That is new shocks on my Bronco and a new windshield in my Mighty Max. Why? For one, we need to stand up to the bureaucratic bastards or the whole place turns into a St. Louis County. For two, you don't fuck over me and mine with no consequences.Many LEOs, past and present, are relatives. I steadfastly support Peace Officers, having come to their aid more than one time. I'm less supportive of "Police" and even less of revenue generators. Most of my relative are of the Peace Officer persuasion. One, however, was so rank he was fired from the Los Angeles Police Department in the early 1970's. Those who know the history of that department know getting fired in that era was rare.This isn't bashing law enforcement. They do a difficult job that I couldn't do in my younger years. As citizens, we need to support them when they deserve it, and hold them accountable when they don't. The latter is neither pleasant or inexpensive. I do it because it is my grumpy asshole way. YMMV

For much of my adult life my nickname has
been “Tank”. A large tank. Haven’t worried too much about physical attacks but
have twice faced loaded firearms pointed in my direction by malefactors. Now,
age 72 and slowed by age, the intimidation factor is probably diminished.

What I’ve carried for years is a .44
Special Charter Arms Bulldog. Not everyone’s choice and maybe not a good
choice. Some of my reasons.

1.Safety.
You can open and close the cylinder with the hammer down. No worries about an
accidental misfire lowering the hammer on a live round. Charter Arms builds
them with a bar under the hammer that doesn’t move until the hammer is cocked. No worries about it firing
if dropped.

2.Stopping
power. Yes, it is not a magnum but it will stop any predator found North
America, especially two legged.

3.Reliability.
100% over 20 years and hundreds of rounds fired.

4.Accuracy.
Far better than my skills. Watched my sister put five rounds into a junk
refrigerator (at one of ‘those’ ranges) at over 50 yards.

5.Intended
purpose. I am not paid to be a gunfighter. Close range self defense as I’m
retreating.

As you can see in the photos a gunsmith
added a “peep” sight. I have macular degeneration in my right eye. I can still
focus on the front sight/target and the peep helps me align the piece.

In my younger years I was above average
with a rifle (best shot in my Army Basic Training Company). With a hand gun, on
my very best day, mediocre. The Bulldog fits my skill level. I’ve had the
opportunity to shoot other handguns. A son has several. I like his Springfield
XP .45 and a Makarov he has. Enjoyed
them, especially the Makarov, but will stay with what I have.

Something all of us can agree on. Having
something is better than nothing. Knowing how to use what you have is better
than learning how to use it as the s^*t is hitting the fan.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Young lad, tweener, riding a bicycle down the sidewalk with earbuds in place, and presumably listening to music. Cars pulling out of driveways (commercial area) and he oblivious to anything not in front of him.Hope the young fool lives long enough to grow up.

Sunday, July 17, 2016

July 16, 2016 at the Longmont, CO airport. In addition to the B-17, they had a B-25, a B-24, and a two seat P-51. They were selling rides at $400+ and had so many takers only the B-17 became available before my knees and the heat sent me on my way.Didn't go inside the B-17. I don't do lines, and this 72 year old body doesn't fold into spaces designed to accommodate fit young men.I'm just putting up the pictures without comments. Enjoy or skip at your pleasure.

Not my first choice for footwear on concrete.

There were some interesting vendors.

This author, Kenny Kemp, moderates a Facebook Page about the WWII Pacific Theater.https://www.facebook.com/groups/wwiipacific/

The foundation makes the bulk of their income from selling rides so being able to see the other aircraft can be hit or miss. Admission is reasonable.

Many Civil Air Patrol cadets were present passing out water and helping in any way they could. Fine organization. One grandson joined but dropped out when he hit 6'11" and realized he couldn't be an Air Force pilot. The brat now plans to become a Marine Corps officer.For more resolution than Blogger allows try https://www.dropbox.com/s/i8erq5cokolbdlc/img_0001.jpg?dl=0My first time using dropbox - hope it works.

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About Me

Semi retired road warrior, car salesman, occasional repo man. Father of three fine sons. Once a Blue Dog Democrat. Once a soldier; once a pilot. Rolling along life's highway proving there is no fool like an old fool.